Crow's Requiem
by Hikari86
Summary: Zevran's actions as he awaits the orders to kill the Grey Wardens. Companion piece with main story "Blood Bond". Five parter.
1. The Challenge

**The Challenge**

_Why does Ferelden have to smell so awful?_ Zevran thought as he stood in the shadows, staring out at the market district. The smell of wet dog was all over the place, and Zevran couldn't understand how the people of Denerim could stand it. Then again, Zevran had a love for the smell of fresh leather, which was a stink most thought to be worse than wet dog. Maybe Ferelden didn't smell so bad after all.

But it wasn't the smell that was bothering him. It was the reason why he was there in the first place.

Zevran lend against the building, its shadow concealing him as he watched the people run about. The market was busy just as it always was. It reminded him a little of the Antivan market making him slightly homesick. He had come to Ferelden by choice, though Ferelden was the last place he thought he would be going. He had put in a bid with his master to be replaced in a different country, he didn't care where: Orlais, Tevinter, he would have even gone to the Anderfels and endured the coldness of the mountains. It would have helped him to forget. Anything would have helped him to forget... her.

No, he could not let himself think of her name. It was too painful. He did not deserve it. She had been everything to him, and he just let her die without a care. Now that he knew his true feelings about her... it was too late. Fate did have a sense of humor, however, although it was a cruel sense of humor. Ferelden had been her birthplace. He remembered her saying that to him. And now here he was, assigned to the Ferelden post by the master who knew his hurt, but obviously didn't care.

The last Crow who had taken this post had died under suspicious circumstances. It wasn't something they were going to investigate, however. That's just how life as an assassin was. Death was everywhere, and Crows died all the time. Either by being killed by a target, or from the masters killing them for returning unsuccessful. It was something Zevran needed to remember. Death happened, and when he got paid for it, death happened often. Even if it meant protecting himself by killing the woman that he loved.

He sighed as he thought about her. As he saw in his mind her eyes as the life drained from them. They pleaded to him for help, and he only laughed. He took solace, though that it actually wasn't he who had cut her throat. It had been Taliesen, his former best friend—if you could really call him that—and partner. But Taliesen wasn't the one suffering. He was still in Antiva, more than likely living life just the way Zevran used to—carefree and loving it. But Zevran had begun to get that life back. He had arrived in Denerim about two days ago and acquired a room at the Pearl. He had also already received some of the Pearl's hospitality. It was nice to not have to sleep alone, especially in a new and different place, but now he wanted something more. It was all fine and well having a companion at your beck and call, or at least if you had the money for such things, but he wanted a challenge now. He liked challenges. They made things more exciting and gave him a nice distraction from the memories that plagued his mind.

Zevran shook out the memories of her. He would not think of her any more today, or at least he would try not to. That was why he was there, standing in the shadows, searching the market. He wanted his challenge.

He scanned the market, hoping to find something that piqued his interest. Either a beautiful woman, or a handsome man, he didn't really care. In the end it was all the same. He edged out of the shadows a bit to get a better look. He could be seen now, but there was nothing about him that should draw attention. He wore simple clothes since there was no need to wear his leather armor. He did keep his dagger hidden in his trousers, just in case. He was an elf after all, and even though the elves in Ferelden had it better than in most countries, it was still dangerous to not be cautious.

As he slowly walked out of the shadows, he finally spotted what he was looking for. She had come out of the alienage. A young elven maiden with bright, fiery red hair. She skidded across the market with quick steps. Ah yes, that was his challenge right there. Zevran could already see it, making him smile. He had always had a thing for redheads, even though he wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was the color, but it might have also been the fact that most redheads he had met were just as their hair: fiery and unpredictable, dangerous even. Just the way he liked it.

Zevran also noticed two other elves following her. One was a male, also with red hair but more darker in color. Behind him, holding his hand, was the third elf. She wasn't as pretty as the first with light brown, mousy hair and a long face. She was obviously with the male as their hands and fingers were intertwined, clenched tight together.

He watched as they scurried across the edge of the market, making their way to an alley and disappeared. He followed them into the alleyway, noticing how well they knew them. It was apparent that they were in a hurry to get somewhere, but Zevran wasn't sure where that was. He just followed, keeping close enough to know their path but far away enough not to draw their attention. When they finally exited the alleyways, Zevran was surprised to find where they had ended up. They had lead him to somewhere in the palace district, and within was a large crowd of people. It was made of both elves and humans alike, from all sorts: nobles, commoners, soldiers. They all stood in front of a large door, murmuring to one another about something. The three elves had disappeared into that crowd, but Zevran was able to find them easily. His elf maiden's hair was bright enough to pick out of the crowd. Making his way through, he positioned himself behind them, close enough to see her features now. He could only see the back of her head, but when she turned, Zevran saw the profile of her face, and he knew he had to have her.

She was very beautiful with pale skin and light green eyes. Her dress was too common for such a pretty face. It was all ragged and dirty, and made Zervan wonder if it was a hand-me-down. He took a step closer to her. She was staring at the male elf, his face showing an expression of concern. "It'll be all right," he said.

"Are you sure?" she asked. Her voice sounded lovely to him, like birds singing. "We haven't heard from her ever since she left. I'm sure a letter would have gotten to us by now."

"You know how she is, Shianni. Letters aren't her forfeit."

So Shianni was her name. Good, that would make things easier.

"We're all worried about her," said the brown haired female. Her voice was more squeaky, which seemed to match her hair color perfectly. "I didn't know her as much as you two did, but she was still like a sister to me."

"Thank you, Valora," said Shianni. "I know it's painful to you as well, but I can't help it. I miss her so much." She looked as if she was about to cry. Zevran edged up even further, wondering if he should try and comfort her, but then thought better of it. Shianni wasn't crying anyway. She sniffed then stood tall with a stern gaze, more than likely holding back the tears. If she was a strong woman, then all the better.

He could see her better now, clearer. She was petite, smaller than he was, but something told him that she wasn't an elf to mess with. Hidden danger, which made him more excited. As he studied her, he then noticed something dangling around her neck. It was a diamond pendent, perhaps the most expensive thing the elf was wearing. This did prove that she had some type of hidden skill. No elf would go around town with such a thing around their neck and not have a way to defend it if they were to be harassed.

"Soris, I think something's happening," said Valora as she pointed to the door. This made Zevran turn away from Shianni to see what was going on. The crowd had become silent as the door swung open and a plump little man stepped outside. He shut the door behind him and addressed the crowd.

"The Landsmeet has been dismissed," he said. "Teyrn Loghain has given his account of what has happened at Ostagar. The true story." He paused, allowing the crowd to murmur before continuing on. "It is with deep regret that King Cailan has been pronounced dead, and that Teryn Loghain has taken the throne as regent." This sent the crowd in an uproar, making the man stop.

Zevran wasn't sure what he was talking about, but didn't really care. He was more interested in the expressions on Shianni's face. Right now she was looking on with a blank face. It appeared that who the recent king was didn't matter to her either. She was more interested in something else.

"As for the armies at Ostagar," the man said after raising his hands to demand silence. "They have been lost along with the king. Teyrn Loghain pulled his men out just in time do to the treachery that he had seen while waiting in the shadows. The Grey Wardens" –and from the mention of them Zevran saw Shianni's face light up– "have betrayed us! It was their betrayal that lead to the king's and their own deaths. There are no survivors of any kind from that gruesome battle."

Shianni's face fell. It went from shock to sadness to anger in only a matter of seconds. "I don't believe it!" she said. "Arawin would never do that!"

"Of course she wouldn't," said Soris. "But... does that mean she's... Arawin's...?"

"No, please don't say it," said Valora as she covered her mouth. Her eyes were beginning to water.

Shianni looked down at the ground, her fists clenched in a tight ball, her eyes shut tight, and her lips curled over her teeth. "No," she said slowly. "I refuse to believe it. Any of it. Arawin can not be dead." She looked up and Zevran saw a determination in her eyes. Apparently this Arawin, whoever she was, was very important to them.

"Shianni... you heard what the man said," said Soris as he tried to put his hands on her shoulders.

"How can you just accept it?" she screamed at him. "You know her! You know she can't be brought down very easily! No, I refuse." She swiped her hands in front of her, causing him to back off. "And I can't believe you would too." Shianni then stormed away from them, running at full speed towards the alleyway that they had come from.

Zevran stood where he was, the crowd melting away from him as he watched Soris and Valora. Soris took Valora in his arms as they both cried together over their lost friend. "Come on," he said softly. "We should go and tell my uncle. I'm sure he'll want to know about his daughter." Valora nodded at him and together they both went into the alley and disappeared.

Zevran watched them go, wondering if he should follow. Maybe not. Perhaps she wasn't his challenge after all.

"Well that was interesting," he heard a sneaky little voice behind him.

Zevran rolled his eyes before turning to face his comrade. "And what do you want, Karah?" he asked irritated, now wishing that he had followed the elves after all.

The mage stood before him in clothing very suitable to her personality. A dirty commoner dress hugged tight against her body, pushing up her breasts, making them look bigger than they really were. Zervan was more used to seeing her in her Tevinter mage robes, but since they were suppose to blend in, she could not wear them out in public at least.

"And what is your problem, Zev, hm?" she said getting closer to him. "I'm just here to see what all the noise was about, and then here I find you."

Zevran sighed. If there was anyone who annoyed him it was her. Karah was a mage, but not just any mage, she was an apostate, a mage that didn't belong to any Circle. But what made it worse was that she was also a malificar, or a mage that practiced blood magic. It was the one thing that made Zevran uncomfortable, blood mages. At any moment during a fight she could use her abilities to rob him of his own life to either help fuel her spells or to extend her own. It was something that she had done to him a few times, each time almost killing him in the process. He had confronted her about it, but he didn't think she listened to him. Just like all Crows, including himself, they were all in it for their own purposes.

"Yes, I'm here," he said. "Now I will be leaving."

"Oh, come on, Zevy," Karah said grabbing him and pulling him into her embrace. "Let's go do something fun together! This place is so boring. There is nothing to do except mess with people's minds." She giggled, allowing Zevran to free himself from her grip. "I made this one man get on all fours and bark like a dog, heh heh. And then I made him look up this one noblewoman's dress, and you wouldn't believe the chaos that ensued!" Karah danced around, blonde hair flowing with her, and blue eyes sparkling with delight. "It was perfect. The man was arrested and he's now in the dungeons. Can you believe it? And I let him go right when the trouble started so he was pleading how he didn't know what he was doing and such. Just like a baby!"

Her laugh penetrated Zevran's ears and he had to cover them. "You shouldn't have done that, Karah," he said once she had settled down. "What if the templars caught you?" Then again, he probably did want the templars to catch her, but he knew that would never happen.

"Bah, like any templar could catch me. Those fools." Karah stuck out her tongue. "If I couldn't even be capture by a Tevinter magister, what makes you think some stupid templars could?"

"Then how about you go and test that, yes?"

"That does sound like fun, but hey, I got a better idea!" Karah wrapped her arm around his shoulder and squeezed him close. Zevran pushed himself away from her again. "What if we went and killed this new regent of theirs? Then we would be able to claim this country in the name of Antiva. Can you imagine the look on the master's face when we present him the crown to Ferelden! I think he would forget any anger he might have towards you."

"Are you nuts?" Zevran spat. "You know we can't do something that big without a contract. And do you not remember what these people did to the Orlesians?"

"No, and I'm surprised you do."

Zevran scuffed. There were many things he knew about Ferelden. Mostly from what... she... had told him.

"Fine," Karah whined. "Then how about we do something more... intricate." She moved closer to him, lifting her chest by putting her hands behind her back. She fluttered her eyes and tried to stare deeply into his.

Zevran looked away. How many times had she tried this on him? And how many times did he say no to her? He figured she would never stop. Karah was relentless when if came to getting what she wanted. But Zevran would not give in, not to her. He had been with plenty of questionable women and men, but the one he would not sleep with would be her. He had heard stories of men who had gone to bed with her who hadn't lived to see the next day. And the ones that did manage to live through the night refused to speak about it. Acting as if they had gone through a torture session rather than a night of passion. Apparently, whatever Karah was into, it was deadly—literally.

"Karah, stop," he said. "It's not going to happen."

"Oh, come on, Zevy." He cringed at that name. Karah edged up to him and slipped her hand into his trousers. He tried to swat her away but her hand was out before he could. In her fingers was the key to his room.

Zevran grimaced at her. _Great._

"I got your key," she teased. "How are you going to keep me out now?"

Zevran swiped the key out of her hand and placed it back in his pocket. "Don't do that again," he scolded her.

"Don't be such a stiff, Zev. Oh wait, maybe you should be." She laughed at her own joke. Zevran was not amused. "Besides, you know it doesn't matter that I don't have the key. I just needed to get a good look at it. Now I can make a copy." She smiled wickedly at him.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "If I find you in my room tonight, don't expect me to be nice."

"Oh, I don't want you to be nice at all! I like a little pain. Course, I've yet to meet a man who can give me what I want." She sighed. "But I guess I'll just have to see if you're man enough tonight, now won't we?" Karah laughed as she walked by, caressing Zevran's check. He moved his head away from her, only making her laugh even harder.

"Great," he muttered. "Now I have to get a new room." But where he would get that room he wasn't sure. The Pearl might give him another one, but he figured it would be best to be as far away from Karah as possible. To perhaps be in a place he knew she would not go. He thought and knew of only one place. The alienage.

Perhaps he should go and find that little redhead after all. He could comfort her. She would obviously be lonely in her bed, crying her eyes out. What kind of man would he be to let her suffer all alone? Yes, that's what he would do. He would go and find her. Shianni was her name. All he needed to do was go to the alienage and look for his ruby amongst the rubble. The challenge was back on.


	2. For Rent

**For Rent**

It didn't take him long before Zevran reached the alienage. He looked around seeing how dirty and worn it was compared to the market district and especially the palace district where he had followed the three elves. The alienage was bad, but he knew that it wasn't as bad as in most countries. At least the streets weren't covered in mold like the alienages in Antiva were. That was probably more due to Antiva's humidity than anything else. Antiva was much warmer than Ferelden, and more humid.

Zevran began walking down the street, taking in the many sites and smells of the place. It wasn't long before he came across a sign on one of the buildings. He went to read it to learn that there was a room up for rent. Only ten silvers a night. He considered it. It was cheaper than the Pearl, and the alienage was one place he knew Karah would not find him. She wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this where she might accidentally step in an unidentifiable substance that could ruin her expensive Orlesian shoes. He laughed thinking how much that would make her mad. Karah was very anal about her clothing and accessories. It was one of the reasons why he was so shocked to see her dressed like a simple commoner. He either saw her in her exotic mage robes or in something that only a noble could wear.

Looking at the address to see where the room was, he was surprised to find that the house was right down the road, close to the gate. It would be perfect. He could slip in and out of the alienage with ease if he needed.

Zevran made his way to the house and knocked on the door. At first there was no answer. He thought maybe no one was home, but decided to knock one more time before leaving and trying again later. He did, and this time he could hear something going on in the house. It was the sound of a chair scrapping against the floor and a voice called out: "Hang on." When the door opened, Zevran found himself facing an older male elf with graying hair. His eyes were red and slightly puffy. "May I help you?" the elf asked, as he wiped his eyes, trying to hide the fact that he had been crying. It was no use, so Zevran pretended like he didn't notice.

"I saw the flier on the wall," he said.

"Oh, you're here about the room, then," said the elf. He sighed. "I'm sorry, but I'm not renting it out anymore."

"Oh, well, I can pay you fifteen silvers instead," Zevran said trying to keep the elf from closing the door on him.

The elf looked at him and Zevran could see in his eyes that he was debating on what to do. Finally the elf sighed deeply and opened the door wide, allowing Zevran in. "You must really need it. Come on in."

Zevran did so. As he entered the house he noticed how small the place was. It was only one room. In the center was a table with two chairs. Next to the wall on his right was a stove and in the back left corner was a bed. In the opposite corner from the bed was a door, and Zevran assumed that this lead to the room for rent.

"Your house is very lovely," he said trying to be polite.

"Thanks," said the elf as he went around Zevran. "I'm sorry if I've come across rude or anything. I just received some very horrible news." The elf sniffed before sitting in one of the chairs. Zevran made his way to sit in the other one.

"Look," he said. "If you're unable to-"

"No, no," the elf interrupted him. "I can see you need the room, and unfortunately I do need the money. I guess she would prefer I take care of myself first than worry about what others would think."

"May I ask what it is that happened?" Zevran asked as polite as he could. He didn't want to upset the man that was willing to give him the room despite his feelings.

The elf looked down at the table. He breathed in and out slowly, perhaps trying to keep himself from crying in front of a stranger. It took him awhile before he could speak. "The room belonged to my daughter," he began. "Her name was Arawin." There was that name again. Could Zevran be so lucky to find a connection to Shianni? "She left home about a week ago, maybe more. I can't really remember. It only seems like yesterday to me. But I only decided to put her room up for rent two days ago. I needed the money, you see, and there's no point in just me living in this house all alone." He looked up from the table and attempted to smile at Zevran. Zevran smiled back, wanting the elf to continue.

"But now I just found out she's... she died," he choked out. "My little girl. And now... I don't know what to do."

"What would she want you to do?" Zevran asked, hoping he hadn't crossed a line.

The elf's face had turned hard, but then lightened as he breathed out slowly. "She would want me to continue on. There's no doubt about that. She's like her mother in so many ways." The elf stood and gave Zevran his hand. "My name is Cyrion. It's a pleasure doing business with you."

Zevran stood, matching Cyrion's gaze and took his hand. They shook. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Cyrion. I am Zevran."

"Well, as you can tell, this is my house," Cyrion gestured. "And that over there will be your room."

"Yes, thank you," said Zevran. He reached and grabbed a pouch from his belt. He then counted out fifteen silvers and handed them to Cyrion.

"Oh, no," Cyrion said with his hands in front of him. "I know you offered fifteen, but you don't have to. Ten will be fine."

"If that is what you wish," said Zevran. He then took the pouch again and counted out five more silvers and handed all of them to Cyrion. "I will go ahead and pay for two nights then. Is that all right?"

"You don't have to, but I guess there's no harm in it." He took the silvers and placed them in his pocket without counting them. "Thank you."

Zevran bowed to him. "It's the least I can do for a man who just lost everything and is still willing to help out a stranger."

"Then I guess I should show you your room."

It wasn't a far walk to the door. All Zevran really needed to do was turn around and the door to the room was right there. Cyrion pulled out a key and went to unlock the door before stopping. He turned to Zevran. "I have to warn you now, this was a girl's room and I haven't had time yet to clean it out. So I'm sorry about the appearance."

"It'll be no problem," said Zevran. It wasn't like he hadn't slept in a female's room before. And besides, if he had his way, he might not even be sleeping in it. That night at least.

Cyrion turned the key and swung open the door. Zevran peered in to see that the room was tiny. It was about one eighth the size of the main room. As for it being a girl's room, Zevran wondered what Cyrion meant.

There was very little in the room, perhaps due to its size. All Zevran could see was the bed in the far right corner with a little end table next to the head. A chest sat in the middle of the far wall, and at the other corner stood a looking-glass that was covered with dirt and fingerprints.

Cyrion then handed Zevran the key along with a second. "This is the key to the room," he explained as he handed over the first one. "And this is the key to the house. I only lock up at night. I'm not going to put any rules on you, so I don't really care what you do outside of the house. Just, if you do have to use the house key, try not to wake me when you come in." Cyrion smiled at him the best he could.

Zevran smiled back. "Thank you," he said. "You are too kind."

"Now, I'll let you go ahead and get situated. I'm leaving to go and find our elder to get a funeral prepared. Oh," he sighed. "I can't believe I'm doing this again." He turned to Zevran. "I'll see you later." He then left the room and Zevran watched as he exited the house.

Zevran stood where he was in a state of shock. Here he was, all alone in a stranger's house with the key and everything. Cyrion was either a very trusting person, or maybe it was because Zevran had paid him early and that there would be no reason to think he would run out on him. There was also probably nothing of value to steal in the house. Zevran hadn't planned on stealing anything anyway. Why would he risk hurting the one thing that might help him to find Shianni and maybe even win her over?

He decided to explore the room. Zevran sat on the bed finding it was fairly soft, but when he laid down on it, he found that he was too tall to fit on the bed properly. He sat up, testing the beds condition by lightly bouncing up and down on it. It didn't make any noise and seemed to be in good order.

He then turned his attention to the bedside table. It consisted of two drawers. He opened the lower one to find it was empty, but when he opened the top one, inside he found several things. The contents mostly consisted of papers and trinkets, but nothing of any value. He picked up the top paper and unfolded it to see it was a small note. The handwriting was very crisp and clean.

_To my little girl on her big day. I hope this serves you just as well as it served me. _

_Love,_

_Mom_

Zevran folded back up the note and placed it in the drawer as he began to rummage through the contents again. He then came across another folded paper that felt like something was inside. He took it out and opened it to find what looked to be the tip of a dagger. It was covered in splotches of rust and what looked to be dried blood. The paper it was wrapped in also had a note scratched onto it. This time the handwriting, he noticed was very shaky, with some of the letters and words running together. The paper was also crinkled, as if it had been wet.

_My dear Ara,_

_I am sorry I did this to you. I wish I could be there to see you grow. To see you through your triumphs. I know you are meant for great things. Just know that I love you and if you ever need guidance, look to the sky and listen to the song. It will lead you to what ever you seek._

Zevran folded the note back over the dagger tip. He didn't understand what the note meant, but he felt as if he had just read something he shouldn't have. He replaced the note, then closed the drawer. He thought it would perhaps be best if he never opened it again.

Getting off the bed, Zevran then went over to the chest and sat in front of it. The lock was broken, so it wasn't hard for him to open. As he suspected, the chest was full of clothes. Dresses, mostly, along with a couple pairs of short pants. From the condition of the clothes, and with the short pants, Zevran assumed that this Arawin was anything but a lady. She was probably very much a tomboy, and maybe even a strong woman as Zevran had seen in Shianni. Zevran wondered about her as he held up one of the dresses. Maybe if she was still alive, she might even be the type of girl he liked, but he couldn't be for sure, and there was no way of knowing now.

He replaced the dress and closed the chest before standing and looking around the room one last time. He still wasn't sure what Cyrion was warning him about, that this was a girl's room. There was no evidence that it was a girl's room besides the contents in the chest. Either way, it didn't matter to him. He was safe in this room. He could feel it.

Zevran decided that if he was going to, now would be the perfect time to go back to the Pearl and get his things. Karah would hopefully not be there, instead fixated on making the false key to his room. He smiled as he thought what she would do when she would open his room tonight to find it empty. He almost wanted to be there just to see her face, but that wouldn't be wise.

Slowly Zevran made his way out of the room, closing the door behind him and then making his way out of the house. He wanted to be quick about it. He didn't have much stuff, so it shouldn't take very long, but he wanted to be back so he could begin his challenge anew. Shianni would be waiting.


	3. The Glow

**The Glow**

When Zevran returned, he found that Cyrion had also returned. He had been crying more, but again tried to hide it when Zevran walked through the door.

Cyrion was standing next to the stove, looking at it as if he were looking at a stove for the first time. He almost seemed confused, like he didn't know what the stove was meant for. "I don't suppose you know how to cook, do you?" he asked Zevran when he turned to face him.

Zevran smiled. "I do, but I'm afraid I can't produce anything good enough for others besides myself." This made Cyrion laugh.

"It's the same for me," he said. "I've been spoiled by two wonderful women who could cook almost anything." He sighed heavily. "But I guess now I do need to learn, don't I?"

"What have you been doing since?" Zevran asked. "You seem pretty well fed."

"Yeah, maybe I am still spoiled. I've been going over to my niece and nephew's house. My niece, Shianni, she makes the best Denerim rabbit stew, though don't ask what it's really made of. Then after Soris was married to Valora, it's been nice trying some new Highever recipes."

Zevran brightened at Shianni's name. If he played his cards right, he might be able to find out where she lived and be able to get to know her better.

"Say, why don't you come with me to their house tonight for dinner," said Cyrion. "I'm sure they won't mind, and you'll get to taste their food personally. I guarantee you'll love it."

"That sounds wonderful," Zevran said smiling. His plan was working out better than he thought.

Zevran followed Cyrion through the alienage to the other side where they stopped in front of a small house. Delicate smells wafted from the open door, tingling his senses and making his stomach rumble. Zevran couldn't remember the last time he had had a good, home cooked meal. He was more used to just eating bland, unsatisfying rations.

Cyrion walked over to the door and knocked before he entered. Zevran stayed in the doorway, unsure if he should follow directly or not.

"Uncle!" he heard someone exclaim. Zevran recognized Soris coming towards Cyrion. They embraced and patted each other on the back. "You here for some more stew, Uncle?" he asked. "I can't believe you like that stuff."

"What can I say?" Cyrion said. "Shianni's got me hooked. The way she makes it, you can barely taste the meat at all."

"Hello Cyrion, it's good to see you." Valora stood in a doorway opposite the front door. She was wiping her hands on an apron as she went over to him. Cyrion took her hands and kissed her on the checks.

"Valora, you are looking as beautiful as ever."

"Thank you," she blushed. Her face then became grave. "How are you doing? I know this is really hard. It's been hard for Soris and Shianni. I can't even believe how it must be for you."

"Don't worry about me, my dear," said Cyrion. "I can manage. By the way, I told you I rented out Arawin's room. Well, this is the young man. I hope you don't mind me bringing him here. Zevran, come on in." Zevran walked into the house and stood next to Cyrion. "Zevran, this is my nephew Soris, and his wife Valora. Everyone, this is Zevran."

"It's nice to meet you," Soris said timidly. He didn't seem to like Zevran being there. It might have been more due to the fact that he was sleeping in his dead cousin's bed than anything else. He put out his hand and Zevran took it and they shook. Zevran could tell that his handshake was cold, but Soris was at least trying to be nice.

Valora, on the other hand, was more friendly. "We've heard a few things about you already," she said to him. "It's nice to finally meet the one who could talk Cyrion into continuing on with his life."

"I do my best," Zevran said with a smile.

"Where's Shianni?" Cyrion asked as he looked around the room. "She usually comes out running to see me."

"I think she's mad at you," said Soris. "But don't take too much into it. You know how she is."

"I'm not mad at him!" They all turned to the opening where Valora had come from to see Shianni standing there. She had her arms crossed and tapped her foot on the floor. "I just don't see why you have to do it is all, Uncle."

"Shianni," Cyrion said slowly.

"It's not right! Not after her death!"

"Shianni!" Soris cried. "For once could you please be civil. We have a guest."

She heaved and turned her head. "He's not welcome here."

"Shianni... please," Soris pleaded. "You're embarrassing me."

Zevran gazed at her, seeing the glare in her eyes as she stared at him. She was mad, and it made her beautiful in a strange way.

"Fine," she finally said. "But don't expect me to be nice." She then snorted before disappearing back in the doorway where Zevran assumed lead to the kitchen.

"Sorry about that," said Soris to Zevran. "She can be like that sometimes."

"I am not offended," said Zevran. "I completely understand what she is mad about. I would probably act just as she is."

"Well, I'm going to let the three of you talk," said Valora as she took off her apron. She kissed Soris then made for the door. "I'll be right back. Since we have a guest this evening, I'll need to go and get some more flour."

"There is no need for that, my dear," said Zevran.

"Oh, it's quite all right. I need to go get flour anyway. You'll be okay without me for a few minutes won't you, Shianni?" she shouted at the kitchen.

"Yeah, just go and get back," Shianni's voice shouted back.

Valora counted the change in her purse before heading out the door. Zevran then realized that he had been basically left alone in the room. Cyrion and Soris were still there, but they had sat down and started a conversation that he knew he could have no part of. He felt like he was intruding. He looked over at the kitchen. Maybe he wasn't intruding that much. Maybe Shianni could use some help with Valora gone.

He positioned himself in the doorway and looked in the tiny kitchen. It was no more than a hovel, smaller than the room he was staying in. All that was in it was the stove and two shelves. Shianni stood at one of them. She was cutting what looked to be the body of a small rabbit, but Zevran couldn't be sure. There was no head or feet to be seen.

"Do you need any help?" he asked politely. Shianni's cutting was abrupt and fast. He took quick notice of the large knife in her hands.

"No," Shianni said coldly without looking from her work. "Or at least not from _you_."

Her coldness didn't put him off. He was used to such things from women. He took a step into the kitchen, coming closer to her. "I do wish to apologize for anything I might have done to upset you," he said with courtesy. "It was not my intent."

"Really?" she said as she looked at him. She had stopped cutting but still had the knife in her hands. Her eyes burned into his and he saw the hate in them. "Your intent wasn't to upset me, but you're still going to sleep in her bed."

"Again, I apologize."

Her expression went from anger to confusion. She realized the knife was still in her hands and put it down. Shianni looked away from him and at the carcass in front of her. She sighed and looked back at him. "Look," she said more calmly than she did the last time. "I know you're only trying to help my uncle, but..." She bit her lip. "Did it have to be _her_ bed?"

He smiled at her. "Well, there are other beds I could sleep in, but I haven't been invited in them yet." His smile broadened and he flashed the one thing he knew women couldn't resist about him. His eyes. He could see their reflection in her own. She stared into them, caught by their gaze just as many women before her. He knew he had her now.

But then he lost her.

Her expression changed yet again and Zevran saw something in her eyes that he did not expect. It was a glow that he had seen in many eyes before. A glow that brought his whole world down and stopped him right in his tracks. This glow he feared. This glow he hated to see, especially in such a strong and beautiful woman.

Shianni was damaged.

Zevran quickly averted his gaze, knowing that now it was doing more harm than good. Shianni turned away as well. When he looked back at her, he saw she was gripping the counter, her knuckles turning white. He felt horrible now, having made her relive those moments. They must have been very recent, but he was surprised that he had even seen the glow. She hid it very well. Usually Zevran could spot a damaged woman pretty easily. There were plenty in the Crows, and in places that he normally lived. Shianni, however, seemed different. Her strength seemed to be coming from the incident, but it was not enough. Zevran had broken through her defenses, and now he wasn't sure if he should pursue with his challenge. The glow almost always stopped his pursuits because a damaged woman could be dangerous.

"I think I should be getting back to your uncle," he said timidly.

Shianni had started cutting the carcass again, but at a much slower pace. "Yeah," she said in a small voice.

Again Zevran had to call off the challenge. There was no way he could be with her now.

Slowly Zevran made his way back in the front room and sat down at the table. He caught Cyrion and Soris in the middle of a conversation. He listened intently, trying to get the glow from Shianni's eyes out of his mind.

"So you talked to Valendrian?" said Soris. "When is he going to hold the funeral?"

"In a few days," Cyrion answered. "But it's not just going to be for Arawin. Apparently there were a lot of us that went to Ostagar to help the army. He says there are so many relatives coming up to him for funerals that it would be best to have one big one to honor them all."

"Huh, I don't see why he can't give Arawin her own," Soris grunted. "She was a Grey Warden after all."

"Grey Warden or not, I'm not going to force Valendrian. If he does that then he'll be swamped by others who want a single funeral for their own loved ones. Then we'll be having a funeral everyday for the next few months."

Soris sighed. "I guess that's understandable."

Zevran sat and listened quietly. He didn't understand anything that had happened at Ostagar or even why people were sent there, but he did know a thing or two about Grey Wardens. If this Arawin was one of them, then that could only mean she was a strong, tough woman. It made him wonder about her even more.

After awhile Valora returned and headed straight for the kitchen to help Shianni finish dinner. When it was done, both women brought it out and the five elves began eating. They were having quite a feast for how poor they were. There was bread, cheese, and the stew Shianni had made. Zevran tasted the soup and immediately fell in love with it.

"Muy delicioso," he said to her, hoping their little incident in the kitchen wouldn't have her hating him even more.

Shianni didn't seem affected by it. In fact, she almost seemed happier than before. Either she was very good at hiding her pain, or Zevran had done something to make her feel better. What that was, of course, he couldn't say.

Her smile at him said more than words could. She was hiding it. "I'm glad you like it."

"What's in it?" he asked. "I'm rather good with herbs. I can taste elfroot, basil, salt, and mushrooms, but I can't quite place the meat."

Soris snickered from across the table. "You'll never guess," he said.

Shianni shot Soris a piercing glare. "Soris, quiet!" She then turned back to Zevran. "Let's just say that it's Denerim rabbit, and leave it at that."

This made Zevran raise his eyebrows, but he didn't question further. The stew was good, and apparently that's all he needed to know about it.


	4. Crow's Requiem

**Crow's Requiem**

A week or so passed, and Zevran was content. He was enjoying staying in the alienage. Cyrion had been very kind to him. He let Zevran do what he pleased, and didn't ask questions to what Zevran did during the day. It was a freedom he was not entirely used to.

Zevran never went back to Shianni's house despite the fact that he was invited several times. He would always deny kindly. When Cyrion would ask why, he would just say that he felt as if he was intruding and didn't want to disturb their family. Cyrion would, of course, say that he wasn't, but he never pressed the issue. In truth, Zevran did feel like he was intruding, but it was also something else. It was something about that family that made him feel good. As if they were the family he never knew and always wanted. It scared him, and he didn't know how to act, so he thought it best to just stay away.

There was also Shianni. She was tempting, but he knew that he couldn't have her, and he was fine with that. He had actually not been with a woman since he left the Pearl. He felt it was nice and all to have a different woman with him every night, but Zevran preferred to have only one woman. Multiple women were too confusing at times, and it got tiring after a while. With just one woman, he could learn what she liked, and in turn, she could learn what he liked. It made sex more enjoyable to have what you wanted, and Zevran was ready to find what he was looking for. If he had to he would wait to find it. It was only a matter of time before he could find another woman that piqued his interest.

He stood under the Vhenadahl, watching the elves go about their business, his mind drifting. It came upon the real reason why he didn't want to go back to that house. It settled on the look he had seen on Shianni's face, but not the one he saw when they had first spoken. No, it was the one he had seen on her during the funeral.

The funeral had only been a few days after his first night with Cyrion. There was a massive crowd surrounding the pavilion that day. Every elf in Denerim was there. Even Zevran was amongst the crowd, although he stayed mostly towards the back. He wasn't sure if he should really be there, but something told him that he should. He felt he owed it to Cyrion at least. To Shianni and Soris and Valora.

The ceremony was very long considering there were a lot of names to honor and many people wanting to say a few words about their lost loved ones. Zevran wasn't really paying much attention until he heard Valendrian say Arawin's name and he saw Cyrion, Shianni, Soris, and Valora on the pavilion. He got a little closer in order to hear better.

"And now we honor our lost sister, Arawin Tabris," said Valendrian. "She left us to go forth to Ostagar, not to be a servant to the king or any of his men, but to become a Grey Warden. She was special, as most of you can probably remember. But I can only say so much." He turned to Cyrion. "My friend, I am sorry for your loss. Would you like to say a few words about your daughter?"

Cyrion nodded, but Zevran wondered if he would be able to at all. He was crying, of course. A sight Zevran was used to by now. Cyrion took in a deep breath before saying anything. "It's... It's hard for a man not only to have to bury his wife that he loved more than anything, but to also have to bury his daughter. One that he knew would do great things if she was only given the chance. There are many things I regret, but I never will regret anything that has to do with her. She was my life."

Shianni came up beside him and placed her hand on his shoulder. He was breaking down and he started crying again. Shianni hugged him before she took the place where he was standing. "May I say a few words, Elder?" she asked.

"Of course you may, Shianni," said Valendrian.

Shianni was so beautiful up on the pavilion. She wore a simple cotton dress, but it was very ceremonial looking with the patterns and beads. She also had in her hair several small blue flowers. Zevran wondered where she had gotten them since he had not seen anything like them growing around the alienage.

Shianni straightened herself. "It is hard for me to do this. I'm not really sure what to say about a woman that was not only my cousin, but by best friend. My sister even, because that's what we should have been. Sisters. Most of you know about me and her. When we were young, how we got into trouble, and how we made havoc all over the city. Those were some of the best times I had with her. She was always there for me. Protecting me and making sure that I never got hurt. She would always put herself in harms way to protect a friend. That's who she was."

Shianni stopped and had to sniff a little, trying to hold back the tears. "I remember my mother telling me before she died how much me and Arawin reminded her of herself and my aunt, Arawin's mother. They too, had been a troublesome duo, and they had apparently passed that down to us. Along with the red hair and green eyes." She stopped and looked up at the tree. "I'm sure, however she was taken from us, that it was because she was defending a friend. She was doing what she does best. The right... the right thing."

Shianni lowered her head, and whispered something that Zevran almost didn't catch. "Good-bye, Sister." She then ran off the pavilion. She ran through the crowd, towards Zevran. Their eyes met, and it was that look that made him wary. It was the same look he had seen in _her _eyes when she was dying. That look of sadness and despair. Shianni had that look for a different reason, but it didn't matter. It still hit him in the same way.

Shianni didn't stop. She kept going, past him and towards the great tree. There, he watched as she began climbing up the trunk, not stopping until she was covered by the leaves high in the branches. Zevran stared up in that tree for a while before he began to register something. There was a song being sung. It was sad, but sweet. He looked around, trying to find the source of the song until he spotted a sparrow sitting in the branches. He was surprised to hear that the song was coming from it. He wasn't even sure that a sparrow could sound that way. The song was low and slow. It mourned the loss of the dead, and it crept into his heart.

Zevran couldn't take it anymore. The sparrow's requiem tore at his heart. It made him think of her. It made him relive the memories again. He had to get away from all the death and sadness. So he did, running from the tree and the song.

But now he was back under the tree. He shook the memory aside. There was no use dwelling on it anymore. He had figured out at that point what it was he needed to do. He needed to find something that would help him forget. Something that would help him to not think of her. Something that would take away the pain.

He didn't notice as a young boy ran over to him. "Message for you, ser," he said as he handed Zevran a letter.

Zevran looked down at the boy and took it. He didn't say anything to him as the boy ran off. He already knew what the message was about. He opened it to read, and sure enough, he was right. The master was asking for him. He wanted to meet with Zevran at the Gnawed Noble Tavern, in one of the back rooms, and he wanted to meet with him now.

Zevran sighed knowing his time here had ended. Whatever the master wanted him for, Zevran had a feeling that he may never see this place again afterwards. He pocketed the letter and walked toward Cyrion's home. As he went inside, Cyrion was there just as always.

"Ah, Zevran," he said seeing him walk in. "Listen, I know you feel awkward and all going to Soris and Shianni's, but you should come again tonight anyway. They've been asking for you."

"That's sweet," Zevran said smiling. "But, I'm afraid I will have to pass, but for a different reason this time."

"Oh?"

Zevran hadn't told Cyrion he was an assassin, for obvious reasons. Instead, he had told him he was a traveler waiting for a message from a friend. Cyrion didn't question any further about why he was waiting or who this friend was or where he was at now. It was one of the reasons Zevran liked Cyrion. He didn't ask a lot of questions, and let Zevran have his privacy.

"I got the message," Zevran told him. "I just came here to say good-bye and pack my things. I am to leave immediately."

"Oh." Cyrion sounded disappointed. "I see. Well, then let me give you back your deposit."

"No, keep it," Zevran offered.

"But you payed me two nights in advance. If you aren't going to be here, then I'm not going to charge you."

"You need it more than I do. Consider it a gift, if you please, for being such a wonderful host. Or, if you prefer, give it to Shianni for all the trouble I caused her."

Cyrion chuckled. "She may not accept it, but I think I can do that."

Zevran went into his room and packed. When he came out, Cyrion was still there, waiting outside the door for him.

"I want you to know something, Zevran," he said. "It's been nice having you. It's been good having someone else in this house. And you know what, I think if my daughter were here, she would've probably liked you, too."

This made Zevran chuckle. "I'm not so sure. If she's anything like Shianni, then maybe not."

"No, Shianni is more like her, and she would be fiery to you at first, but then she'd mellow out. But I guess if Arawin were here, then you wouldn't be. Ah, well."

"It was nice to meet you as well, Cyrion, and thank you." Zevran shook his hand.

"I just want you to know, if you do come back, no matter if that room is open or not, you will always find a place here. I will make sure of it."

"Thank you." Zevran wasn't sure what more to say. He had grown close to the older elf over the past week, but the feeling still scared him. It was something he wasn't used to, and wasn't sure what to do with.

They said their good-byes one last time before Zevran exited the house. Once outside, he breathed in and let out a huge sigh. He was going to miss this place.

As he turned the corner to leave, he ran into a familiar face.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," Shianni said as she looked up at him. "Zevran?"

"Hello, my dear," he said to her. "You seem to be in quite a hurry. What's the rush?"

"Oh, well..." Shianni glanced to see the bag thrown over his shoulder. "Are you leaving?"

"Yes, sadly," Zevran said with a sad expression. "I finally received the message I've been waiting for. I must now go and meet up with my friend and head off."

"I can't believe you're leaving so soon," she said surprised.

"Why so surprised, Bonita?"

"I, uh... well." Shianni acted timid and shy, something he had not seen in her before. "I was coming over here to speak with you, actually."

Zevran raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Really? What for? I had the distinct impression that you hated me."

"I did, but, well... Oh! Andraste's ass, you'd think I'd learn some social graces by now. I just wanted to apologize to you for how I acted. It wasn't right. I was just caught in one of my moods."

"It's understandable, as you did just get some horrible news about your cousin. And I give you my sincerest regrets to your loss."

Shianni stared into his eyes, and he saw that glow again within them, but it wasn't like the last time. Apparently she wasn't afraid to show him at least. "I saw you at the funeral," she said. "It was then that I knew you really did feel something. Even though you never knew her, you knew how we all felt at least, and showed your respect by just being there. Thank you for that."

He smiled at her. "It was the least I could do for your uncle's hospitality. I couldn't have asked for better."

Shianni smiled back. "So will we see you again? I mean, you are coming back, aren't you?"

"For you, Bonita, sure," Zevran chuckled. Apparently his charm had worked on her after all. It was just time that he needed in order to let it sink in. But unfortunately, it had come too late.

"Good, because it would be nice to see you again. And next time, I won't be so hostile, I promise."

"Your uncle did say that if I ever returned I would always have a place to stay. Does you wanting me to come back mean I will also have someone waiting for me as well?"

Shianni could only smile, apparently unable to speak.

Zevran sighed. It was good to know such a thing, but he wasn't sure if it was right to allow her to think it. After all, he may not be coming back.

"Only if you promise you'll come back," she finally said.

He sighed again, knowing that he couldn't promise what she wanted, but he would anyway. "I promise that, if I can, I will return."

"So I have your word?"

"You have my word," he said taking and kissing her hand. "Just promise me one thing, Bonita. While I am gone, stay strong. Do not let anything that might've happened in your past keep you from enjoying the future."

Shianni hesitated a little, acting as if she wanted to take her hand from his. She nodded. "I will. I have to. Arawin isn't here anymore to be the strong one, and she's never coming back."

"But Arawin is here, isn't she? She's in your heart, yes?"

That got a smile from her. "You're right. And that is where she will be forever."

"Good, I like to see that smile on your face. Gives me something to think about as I'm on my travels. But now I really must be going. Until we meet again, my dear." He kissed her hand one last time before departing. He didn't turn to see her. He already knew that she was staring after him.

It felt good to know that she would be waiting. It felt good to have some hope again in his heart. But how long that would last, he wasn't sure. He only wished he could take his own advice and let the past stay in the past and not affect his future. But there was a difference between what had happened to Shianni and what had happened to him. It was only a matter of time before the horrid thing he did would catch up to him.


	5. The Answer

_A/N: For any of you who might be wondering, the chronological order that this story fits in with __Blood Bond_ _is: Starts after the first part in "Lies and Truths", and ends before the second to last part in "Decisions". I hope you all enjoyed. I may come out with other pieces similar to this later on. Thanks again! _

**The Answer**

The market was just as lively as ever as Zevran stepped from the alienage gates. He wasn't in much of a good mood to look around. He wanted to get to this meeting as quick as possible. To see what the master wanted. As he walked through the bazaars towards the tavern, something then caught in his nose, making him stop dead in his tracks. There was only one smell that could get him to do that.

He turned towards the direction the smell was coming from and saw a small bazaar that had displayed many things from other countries. He saw jewelry, silks, cutlery, and... boots. His eyes widened, his mouth watered as he gazed upon them. Zevran ran through the crowd and up to the boots sitting on the table in the bazaar. He picked them up, feeling them, smelling them, taking all of them in with his senses. They were Antivan leather, and he couldn't believe how beautiful they were.

"I see you have good taste." The woman who ran the bazaar stood next to the table, eying Zevran suspiciously, but with a smile.

"Of course I do," he said. "This is Antivan leather. I would know that smell anywhere."

"You are correct," she answered. "Genuine. Straight from Antiva City. My mother brought them along with many other things last year. They are completely brand new. Never been worn."

Zevran absently stroked the soft leather, feeling it against his skin. He couldn't believe he could find something so wonderful in the Denerim market. The boots even looked as if they would fit him.

"Hmm." He thought for a moment, but it didn't take him long to decide. "I'll take them. How much?"

"Wonderful," said the woman. "That will be twenty sovereigns."

"What? Twenty sovereigns!" Zevran exclaimed furiously. "That's outrageous!"

"No, it is not," the woman said as she swiped the boots from his hands. "It's a very good price for such boots. Did you forget I said my mother got them all the way from Antiva herself? That wasn't an easy journey, and the leather is inscribed, so it's very well made." She placed the boots back on the table and dusted them off. "Perhaps if you wish, I could show you some other leather boots that might be more in your price range? Some rough leather perhaps, made right here in Denerim."

"No thank you," he said smirking at her. "Instead, I was hoping you could put those on hold for me. I don't have the money right now, but I will later on."

"Sorry, I don't do holds," she said trying to hold back a laugh. "What if someone came along who could buy them? I couldn't deny them these wonderful boots just because an elf may or may not return with the proper amount. If you wish, you may save your money and come back. We should still be here in the next few years. Though the boots will more than likely be different, and maybe even more."

Zevran snorted and glared at her, but in a nice way. So she thought he was a servant and could never afford them. How wrong she was. He would show her when he got back. Once he was done with whatever mission he would be taking, he would then come back with enough money to maybe even buy out her entire stock of Antivan leather.

He let that thought sink in as he reluctantly walked away from the bazaar and the boots. But the more he thought about it, the more he liked it. He would return, and he would buy the boots for himself for a job well done. Maybe he would even buy something for Shianni. Some diamond earrings to go with that pendant of hers.

He began making his way through the market again. Now more determined to get to the meeting more than ever.

_Why you sneaky little RAT!_ Karah's voice boomed in his head, making him suddenly stop. He cried out in pain and held his ears, even though this reaction would do nothing to protect him from her.

_Did you not think I didn't know where you were? Ha, ha, ha. _Her cackle bounced around in his head. He backed up into an alley to keep people from staring at him.

"Get out of my head, Karah," he said through clenched teeth.

"Oh, you're such a poor sport, Zevy." Zevran turned around to see her sitting on a pile of garbage, legs spread and Chasind robes barely covering anything.

He took his hands off his ears and glared at her. "If you ever do that again!" he said trying to sound as menacing as possible.

"Or what?" she said jumping off the pile. "What are you going to do, Zevy, huh?" She laughed at him. He could have easily killed her. All he needed to do was take his dagger and shove it into her abdomen. He was quick enough, but he knew he would die in the process. Karah wasn't a mage to mess with, and there wasn't a guarantee that she would die anyway. With Karah, there were no certainties.

"What do you want?" he asked still glaring.

"Me? I don't want anything. I assume you got the same letter I did. So, since we're partners, then don't you think it would look better if we went in together?"

"We're not partners," he said. "I'm just here, stuck with you. That's all."

"Oh stop it, Zevy. You know we're—What is that?"

Karah pointed at Zevran. He followed her finger to his right shoulder, where he stopped bewildered as he stared into the eyes of a sparrow.

He hadn't even noticed the little bird land on his shoulder, but there is was. It stared back at him, chirping and twisting its head. Its little wings fluttered and it seemed to be almost dancing on his shoulder. He smiled at it, wondering what it was doing, and feeling somewhat happy by its presence. Something about the sparrow made him feel good.

"What were you doing in that filthy place?" Karah asked. The disgusted look on her face and the tone of her voice made Zevran reluctantly look away from the sparrow.

"I assume you mean the alienage?" he said. "It's not that bad."

"I suppose if that's all you're used to. But what is that bird doing? Do you want me to get it off for you?" She made to flick it off with her hand. Zevran slapped it away. At first, he thought his sudden movement had scared the bird off, but when he looked back, the sparrow was still on his shoulder.

"It looks as if the thing wants to stay," he said. "So don't you touch it."

"That thing is probably ridden with disease and filth." Karah held up her nose. "But I guess if you want to keep it, then by all means! But if it poops on you, don't come crying to me."

Zevran didn't take his eyes from the bird. It chirped at him one last time before it fluttered away in a great blur. He felt a little sad from its departure, but then he noticed something on his shoulder. He took his hand and picked it up.

"What is that? Was I right? Did it poop on you?"

"No, it's a flower," he told her. And it was. A small blue flower, in fact. Just like the ones that were in Shianni's hair during the funeral.

He twirled the tiny stem in his fingers as he examined it. The petals were a royal blue and small. The flower was perhaps no larger than his fingernail. He wondered where it had come from. He hadn't seen it in the sparrow's beak or talons.

"A flower?" he heard Karah say. "Let me see."

"Hey!" he cried when she stole it from his fingertips. "Give it back."

"What, it's just a flower?" she said. Karah examined it before squishing it in between her fingers.

"What did you do that for?" he cried when he saw what she had done. "Karah!"

"You act as if it meant something to you," she said with no remorse. "It's just a stupid little flower. Although, if flowers are what you want, then I'd be happy to give you some." She leaned in close to him and smiled wickedly.

Zevran moved away from her and turned to leave. "Come on," he said bitterly. "I'm sure the master is waiting."

They made their way into the Gnawed Noble Tavern, walking past the front where many nobles sat drinking and talking to one another. As they went past, several of them stopped and stared. Not at Zevran, precisely. After all, he looked more like a servant elf. Maybe he was coming in to start work. It was Karah they stared at. A woman dressed in almost nothing, walking into a place as this. They had grimaces on their faces. Perhaps they thought she was in the wrong place. Zevran wished they would stop looking, and hoped they thought that he wasn't actually with her.

As they made their way to the back, past many of the rooms, all the way down to the hall, they came to the right door and knocked three times. Zevran waited the appropriate amount of time before knocking three times again. The door opened and he and Karah stepped inside the room.

As they entered, the door shut behind them with a man standing in front of it. There were men everywhere in the slightly large room. Most of them had tattoos on their faces. They looked casual as they lend against the wall and the bedposts, but Zevran knew better than to underestimate them.

"Welcome," a bald man said who was standing in the middle of the room. They stopped before him. "Zevran and Karah, is it? I have been expecting you."

"Master Ignacio?" Zevran questioned. "I did not except-"

"Of course you wouldn't," Ignacio interrupted him. "I assume you expected your own master, but why would he come all the way from Antiva just to see you?"

"Because he missed us?" Karah inquired with a purr in her voice. She pressed up her breasts like she always did, and Zevran was unsure what she was trying to accomplish.

Ignacio narrowed his eyes at her, obviously insulted by her actions.

"Why did you want to see us, then?" Zevran asked, getting the conversation in the right direction before Karah got him killed.

Ignacio turned to him. "I do have something for you from your master that he would like for you to read. It is a document of sorts that no one else in your cell will take. In fact, I hear, most of them won't even finish it."

"Really?" Zevran said cocking his head. "What sort of document is it?"

"Would you like to read and see for yourself?" Ignacio handed Zevran the document. It was a simple piece of paper. On it were the descriptions of a trading route. A disguise, of course. Zevran read it, able to decipher the code:

_By order of Regent Loghain Mac Tir of Ferelden and Teyrn Rendon Howe, that an associate be assigned to eliminate any remaining Grey Wardens and who so ever accompanies them in Ferelden. Three are known, but others may follow. Said associate can deal with matter in anyway seen fit. _

There was more to read, of course, but Zevran needed to stop. He froze in place as he stared down at the paper. He understood why no others had taken the assignment. He knew now, more than anything, that this had been what he was waiting for. In his hands, right now, was not just a normal piece of paper. No, it was more than that. It was his death.

Everything at that point came flooding into his mind. What he had been seeking to end the pain, to end his suffering. This would truly be the answer. There was no doubting that. From what he knew about Grey Wardens, one thing was perfectly clear: every time a Crow went up against a Grey Warden, it was always the Crow that died. No Crow had ever successfully assassinated a Grey Warden. Even entire cells had been wiped out just trying to kill one Grey Warden. But this contract was not asking for one, but _three!_ As well as anyone who was traveling with them. This would truly be a death sentence to anyone stupid enough to take the job. But Zevran knew, and perfectly understood what he had to do.

All this time he had been waiting for it. He had been distracting himself in order to keep his mind off the truth. Shianni, the boots, they were both folly, only a way for his mind to keep him safe from the inevitable. That he wanted to die. It was the only thing that he knew could truly end his suffering from what he had done to her.

He thought of Shianni, wishing that he had never seen her racing through the market. He wished he had never made that promise to her that he would return, because now he knew he never would. He had felt it anyway, that there would never be anything between him and her. Whatever could have been between them, fate, it seemed, did not wish it so.

The sparrow's song came to mind. It sang deeply in his heart, and now he understood it more than ever. The requiem wasn't being sung for Arawin or for any of the elves who had died. It was being sung for him. It was a crow's requiem. The sparrow who had landed on his shoulder earlier had been the same one, he was sure of it. It had been giving him one last good-bye, one last gift before the end.

Zevran stood where he was, still staring down at the paper. He wondered how long he had been standing there. How long Ignacio had been watching and waiting for him to respond. He felt Karah behind him, reading over his shoulder. She was unusually silent for once, and it made Zevran a little nervous.

"Well?" he heard Ignacio ask.

Zevran let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He ran through everything in his mind again. Yes, death was what he wanted. To end it, for... _Rinna_.

Zevran cringed at thinking her name. He still felt as if he did not deserve it. He didn't deserve anything except for what lied in wait for him.

He looked up at Ignacio, a cold expression on his face. Ignacio raised an eyebrow, waiting for an answer. Zevran breathed in heavy.

"I'll take it."


End file.
